


going hunting

by Eleanor_Lambb



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Death, Other, bloodhound feels insecure, wraith kicks ass in a match, wraith knows exactly what to do to help get their violent tendencies back in order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleanor_Lambb/pseuds/Eleanor_Lambb
Summary: Bloodhound has been acting strangely lately.
Relationships: Bloodhound & Wraith | Renee Blasey, Bloodhound/Wraith | Renee Blasey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ah.....this had been sitting in my drafts for a while. i have another chapter currently in the WIP so ah.....
> 
> more chapters to be added
> 
> thnx for reading

Wraith overlooks Natalie - 

_Wattson. She's Wattson now._

No longer just the young and bright - eyed daughter of a well - respected, recently deceased Apex engineer, Natalie now holds her head up high and is eager to prove herself in the arena. Wraith and her had already fought multiple times already. She's a much more capable woman than meets the eye.

Wraith overlooks her. Wattson is beaming bright, eyes flicking between the legends, bouncing in her spot, playing with her hands. Always ready for action, ready to make her father proud.

The Legend roulette board spins, splitting the Legends up. Caustic, Mirage, Octane. Gibraltar, Bangalore, Bloodhound. Pathfinder, Wattson, Wraith. Lifeline had taken a particularly nasty fall outside of the arena (Which Octane insists is _not_ his fault,) and was still recovering from a swollen ankle, so she unfortunately would have to sit this one out. _A shame. It's never a bad idea to have a healer on your squad._

On the board, Wraith's card was lit with a purple border with a knife icon. _Guess that makes me jumpmaster._

The groups mutter, split and join their groups. Wattson skips up to Pathfinder, excitedly speaking to him. Wraith shakes her head. How anyone could stand to talk to him for extended periods of time was beyond her, but Wattson was beloved by everyone, and in return she treated everyone with kindness. Nobody could stay mad at those round and rosy cheeks for long. She skips up to Wraith, taking her hand.

"Don't worry," She says, "In the spirit of Lifeline, I shall be calling everyone their respective nicknames.... _Gloomy_ ," She giggles.

Wraith rolls her eyes, grinning and shaking her head in mock disapproval. The overhead speaker crackled.

**THIRTY SECONDS TO PREPARE.**

The groups take up their drop spots, checking their equipment as the timer ticked down. Wraith turns her head, throwing a side - glance at Bloodhound. They're busy talking strategy, or something along the lines, to their teammates. There's a few seconds of staring, before they turn their head, notice her. They dip their head in a slow nod in response. She throws them a grin, tilts her chin up.

_Good luck._

The inner dropship lights flash red.

**READY LEGENDS.**

**THREE.**

**TWO.**

**ONE.**

The platforms under their feet open, wind blowing Wraith's hair and scarf every which way, the wind speed making her eyes water. Bright daylight makes her squint.

"So," Wattson yells, "Where should we drop?"

"I say the Thunderome," Pathfinder says with a wave, "The loot there will help us exponentially in surviving this round."

"South Settlement," Wraith says, then nothing more.

She kneels down, then springs up, off the edge of the platform. The wind cuts through her, bypassing her clothes and chilling her to her bones and goosebumping her skin. She looks behind, seeing her team following. She pulls her arms in, cutting through the air like a bullet towards her destination.

She eases the jetpack jets, does a flip in the air, lands on her feet on a roof, like a cat. Wattson lands on the ground below her. Pathfinder comes in slightly too hot, skidding in the dirt. He stands straight, turns around, and gives his other teammates a thumbs up.

They raid the South Settlement, finding shields and armor and pistols. Nothing of amazing value, but useful. Pathfinder brings up the Thunderdome again, the group agreeing to go forth West.

As they begin their careful rush towards the Thunderdome, Wraith keeps her eyes on the changing banners around her. In the distance, away to the North, they can hear gunfire.

"Where do you think that is?" Wattson asks, "Bunker?"

"The Bunker is too far. The Airbase is the more likely of locations," Pathfinder says.

"Which means we should get going," Wraith picks up her pace, turning to a sprint.

They raid the Thunderdome. They find better gear and shields, Wraith finding a Wingman, Pathfinder with a Peacekeeper, and Wattson happily totes a Havoc rifle. Wraith picks up an extra health kit at the cage above, glancing at the switching banners. Everyone is still up, color across the board. She surveys below.

_Nothing out of the ordinary -_

**Northwest, on the hill. Someone's got you in their sights.**

Wraith takes cover behind the metal sheeting, "Get down!" She yells into her communication piece. Pathfinder and Wattson take cover behind the dirt mounds of the dome. A shot rings out.

"That's a G7 Scout," Pathfinder says, "That's - "

A yell fills the air, and Wraith watches as Octane comes flying into the middle of the dome. He waves a Devotion in his arms.

Wattson beams, Havoc charging, "What do people call this? Skeet shooting?"

A yellow beam flies out of the Havoc, piercing Octane right in the chest. He makes a pained sound, shield breaking. He loses whatever concentration he had, plummeting into the center of the dome, rolling. He stumbles, Devotion spraying wildly.

_He never does watch the recoil._

Wraith slides down quickly, drawing her knife. She hops off the grapple a few feet up, pouncing on Octane and driving the knife into his neck. He explodes into code, an alarm sounding. She rolls as soon as he's gone, taking cover in the grates. She looks towards the rest of her team. Wattson throws her a smile, clapping. Pathfinder gives her a thumbs up.

"Nice jump, friend!"

"The dead box is yours," Wraith cocks her Wingman, "Let's see where the other two are."

She waves her hand, opening a Void Portal. She steps inside, the world becoming cold and white. She sprints towards the hills, Northwest, watching the mirrors of time lay out the possibilities. She follows one, seeing Mirage on the hill. That Wraith doesn't see the gas trap Caustic has set by his right, and she chokes, alerting Mirage. Current Wraith opens a portal on his left, sprinting out.

Mirage has little time to react. He doesn't even hear her steps. She flies towards him, sending three shots out. One hits him in the hip, the second hits him in the chest, breaking his shield. The third hits him in the head, exploding him into code, alarm ringing. She quickly raids his dead box, finding more ammo. She trades her Mozambique for the G7. Behind, her portal closes.

 _Shit._ She touches her earpiece, "Any eyes on Caustic?"

"Non, _désolé_ ," Natalie says, "But Octane had a Phoenix kit on him!"

Wraith scans the hill. _There's no other gas traps. Where could he be?_

Pathfinder speaks on the earpiece, "Enemy locat - " He's cut off by fast gunfire. The arena announcer crackles above.

**RING CLOSING IN 30 SECONDS.**

Wraith opens up the map on her wrist. She exhales. _Already in the circle. Good._ She closes the map, running around the hill, sliding in dirt. There's no Caustic, but there is Bangalore's squad. She clenches her fists, concentrating her power. Different from how the portals work, Wraith simply phases between realities, settling in the space in the middle. She never stays between realities very long, as it makes her feel sick, like she'll float into the nothingness.

She sees her other squadmates, pinned down on the other side of the Thunderdome, Bangalore and Gibraltar closing in. Wraith phases back in, crouching in the dirt. She aims her G7 down the sights. She fire off four shots, forcing Gibraltar to throw down his dome of protection.

She fires more shots, chipping away at the dome. Bangalore and Gibraltar take turns switching in and out, taking potshots at Wraith. Dust explodes in her face. She coughs, taking cover, blindfiring over her to keep their attention.

"I've got them, you two flank," She says.

"Already on it," Wattson says sweetly. Between LMG and assault rifle fire, Wraith hears shotguns go off and the buzz of an energy rifle. She breaks from her blindfire to reload.

A rock is kicked in the sand behind, and Wraith twists around, Wingman drawn too late.

Caustic explodes into code with the shout of a sniper rifle, his dead box hitting the ground before he does, alarm ringing.

Wraith phases between realities, running into the center of the dome, climbing the grappling ropes. Her stomach turns when the color returns to the world. She looks off to where Caustic's dead box dropped, seeing two black ravens pecking at the ground around. She scans the horizon, unable to locate Bloodhound.

She stands at the open wall of the cage, taking shots at the Gibraltar's dome through the chain links. The dome breaks, giving Pathfinder an easy opening to unload shots into Gibraltar's chest, downing him. Bangalore gets a good shot in, breaking Pathfinder's shield, but Wattson comes up behind to unload a charge shot into her back. She fizzles out, and Pathfinder lays another shotgun blast into Gibraltar, his dead box dropping, two death alarms sounding.

Wattson and Pathfinder dig through the loot, but Wraith doesn't take her eyes off the surroundings. _Where are you, Bloth? Where are you hiding?_ She quickly checks her portal energy bar, seeing it at 87%. She shakes her head. _Should've saved it._

"Hey! Wraith!" Wattson calls out. Wraith looks at her, seeing her holding up a case of heavy ammo, "Do you need more ammo?"

A shot rings out, and Wattson drops. Another shot, and all that's left of her is her dead box. Pathfinder launches a zipline towards Wraith, just getting off the ground before he, too, is dropped by Bloodhound's rifle. Wraith looks at her wristpiece, seeing it tick to 95%. _Hurry up._

**Someone has you in their sights.**

Wraith drops onto her stomach as a bullet flies over her head. She checks the map on her wrist, seeing the next circle appearing North, to the Bunker. Well, no point in sticking around. She phases between worlds, leaping down from the suspended platform. She runs as far as she can, to the edge of Skull Town. As she comes back to the physical world, her head spins, stomach churning, threatening to spill out the contents.

**RING CLOSING IN 30 SECONDS.**

She wipes sweat from her forehead, shaking her head. _Can't take a break now_. She searches the buildings, swearing as she finds the buildings have been picked clean. She eyes the skies and the rooftops, seeing neither Bloodhound nor their birds.

Though she loves them, she refuses to lose to them.

She runs towards the Bunker as the circle closes. A shot rings out, Wraith taking cover behind the concrete walkways that sat in front of the entrance. She doesn't dare peek her head out. She phases out, phasing in once she's inside, slamming her fist on the side button, the door closing.

She double checks the map. The circle was right over the Bunker. _That would force them to come to me_. She raids the hallways, finding pistols and ammo for guns she didn't have. Her G7 reserve was dwindling, as did the ammo for her Wingman. She wishes she stopped to quickly grab something from Caustic's dead box.

She attempts to exit the other side of the Bunker, but the edge of the circle had closed flush to the door. Wraith frowns. _Damn. Dead end._

Distantly, very distantly, the doors on the other end of the Bunker close.

Wraith takes shelter in an empty room, crouching low. _Cornered._

**Careful sweep, coming down the stairs.**

A raven passes by, pecking at the metal floor.

 _Better time than any_. Wraith opens a portal behind her, phasing through quietly. She stays in her line, going towards Bloodhound deeper into the Bunker. Just as the Void said, Bloodhound was descending carefully down the stairs, a rifle in their hands. Wraith sticks to the wall, going up and behind them. She smirks.

She opens her exit portal, "You shouldn't play on the stairs - " She shoulders herself out of the portal, connecting with Bloodhound's back, sending them toppling down the stairs. The gun flies out of their hands, Bloodhound landing hard at the bottom, their equipment scraping against the metal grates.

Wraith hops onto the stair railings, sliding down and hopping onto the floor. Their birds honk and screech at her, pecking at her boots.

"Cut it out," Wraith says to the birds, "You're embarrassing your master."

Bloodhound groans, turns over, "Not as embarrassing as being defeated by a flight of stairs."

Wraith grins, tilts her head. She gets ready to quip out a line, banter a bit, but remembers the cameras around her. She draws her Wingman.

  
-

  
Wraith enters the Legend locker room, greeted by a round of applause. Wattson bounces up, giving her a tight hug.

She makes a face, "Natalie. Hugging without permission."

Wattson immediately jumps back, hands up, "Oh! Sorry, Wraith...." She plays with her fingers, a nervous tick Wraith noticed.

Wraith grins, holding a fist out. Wattson excitedly fist - bumps her. She looks to the side, motioning Pathfinder over.

"Good round today!" He says, stiffly fist - bumping Wraith and Wattson.

"You too," Wraith says with a tight grin. Pathfinder was OK, in increments of contact. She looks around him, scanning who else is in the locker room. There's Mirage and Octane, clowning on each other. There's Bangalore, who's polishing her equipment. Gibraltar, who's speaking to (Read; _bullying,)_ Caustic.

But no Bloodhound.

She frowns.

"What's wrong, Wraith?" Wattson asks.

"Where's Bloth - Bloodhound?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. They were here a second, then," She snaps her fingers, "Gone. Sorry."

Pathfinder motions to the exit door, "They went that way."

"They've been behaving oddly, don't you agree?" Wattson says. She taps her chin.

"Legend Bloodhound has been underperforming this month," Pathfinder taps their chest, showing the Legend charts, "The records show that they haven't retained a top three spot in the last three weeks. They used to be steady in the top five positions."

Wraith's eyebrows raise in surprise, squinting at the screen. Bloodhound is third from the bottom, above Caustic and Gibraltar. Wraith never paid attention to the boards, they were next to worthless in her eyes, but Bloodhound had very different reasons for joining the Apex games. They cared little for prize money, they were in it for glory, to show respect to the Allfather and the gods they serve, to partake in what they saw as 'The ultimate hunt.'

Nothing in the past few weeks showed Wraith anything that would give her any worry, or even a pause. Bloodhound was the same as they always were, fighting just as hard in the arena. So why were they tanking so badly in rounds?

Wattson waves a hand, "Though, I'm sure it's just a dry spell, no? They're Bloodhound," She shrugs, reciting one of the Legend bios the arena had written when they were first introduced, " _Bloth Hoondr, an unstoppable tracker who spills blood for honor and glory - "_

Wraith doesn't wait for her to finish. She's already out the door.

  
-

  
Wraith checks into the complex, ushering herself up the stairs to Bloodhound's apartment. She unlocks the door with the spare key Bloodhound crafted for her, letting herself inside. She sweeps through the apartment. Bloodhound, nor their birds, are there, the apartment smelling of stale incense. She doesn't bother pulling out her Cell, as Bloodhound doesn't have one and is insistent on never getting one.

Bloodhound's bedroom is as rich and warm as the rest of their apartment, dressed in deep reds. Thick tapestries cover the walls and the window leading outside. Tables and drawers line to walls, stacked with bones and plants, carved figures and other miscellaneous items and trophies. She sits on the bed. Though she tries to keep her cool, Wraith can't fight the worry pitted in her gut. Why did they leave so quickly? They never acted sore about losing before, what changed? What was going on with Bloodhound?

And why did everyone else see it, but not her?

She leans back. _Might as well wait here. It wasn't the first place they've been, but they'll be back any moment._

And the moment ticks on into hours, Wraith falling asleep as she waited. She's blissfully sleeping when a ring sounds in her head.

**Keys. Front door.**

Wraith brushes sleep from her eyes, feeling stiff, as she hadn't changed out of her equipment before she left the locker room. She swiftly leaves the bedroom.

Bloodhound sees her, then crouches low with a soft sound of alarm, birds squealing. Wraith skids to a stop, hands up.

"Just me."

Bloodhound heaves a heavy sigh of relief, standing straight, clutching their chest, "For the love of the Allfather! Dearest, you _scared_ me!" They flip on a light, basking everything in an amber glow, "What's wrong?"

"You left before I could make it back," Wraith says, "Where did you go?"

"I just...needed time to myself, my love. I'm sorry."

"I wanted to talk."

"Of course. Tea?" They motion to the open kitchen.

"No," She takes Bloodhound's hand, leading them to the living room. She sits them down on their couch, sitting next to them. She keeps both of her hands clasped around one of theirs, "You've been different lately."

Bloodhound sits up, "Have I?"

"Have you seen the Legend board?"

There's a short pause, then they sigh, "Dearest, please."

"Tell me what's wrong. I'd like to know what it is," Bloodhound was no open book, and Wraith tried not to pry, but it hurt her to know something was troubling them, and she had no idea. Through the lingering incense, Bloodhound smells like dirt and gunpowder.

They tap their fingers on their thigh, saying nothing. The silence stretches on into minutes. Wraith lets go of their hand, leaning back and crossing her arms. If you can't get through to Bloodhound with conversation, stubbornness always works. They know she won't leave without some information.

Bloodhound sighs, reaching into their coat, popping out a tin of tobacco, "Hand me my hookah, lovely?"

Wraith carefully picks up the instrument, moving it between the two. Bloodhound stuffs the tobacco into a side, shutting the tin and sliding it back into their coat. They smoke, taking long and deep drags.

Smoke pours from openings in their mask, "I feel as though I'm losing my edge."

Wraith's eyebrows disappear into her hairline. She pulls her legs up, sitting criss - cross, listening.

They tap at the neck of the hookah, "The lure of the games were too sweet to ignore. Brutal glory, violent prestige. Bees to wildflowers, I answered the call. But lately, the magnificent shine has rubbed out. This is more a desk job than a bloody game of renown," They take a deep breath, "My waning interest disappoints Him."

"Burnout can be a Hell of a thing," She says carefully.

They nod, "Yes, it is," They sigh again, wave her off, " _Ach_ , listen to me. I sound so sorry for myself, blaming the games for my own shortcomings," They snuff out the hookah, standing, "Look, I didn't even take my boots off. I've tracked mud in - "

Wraith sighs through her nose. That's Bloodhound, alright, waving off their own emotions in favor of anything else. Wraith shoots a hand out, grabbing their wrist, "Bloth."

Their head tilts, like a bird. She drags them back down so they sit on the couch again. She takes a second to collect her thoughts.

"Do you really think you're disappointing the Allfather?" She says it very carefully.

There's a long, long pause from Bloodhound, their hand limp in Wraith's hand. Then they nod, almost sadly, "I can feel it in the air. Every action I make is guided by Him, but I can feel his guidance breaking away," Their voice drops. They sigh, it becoming a hiss through teeth, "Son of a Bitch."

Wraith clenches her hands around their wrist. _I'm here. Talk to me._

"If only I could....revitalize the game. Change something. It is the same area, the same game style. Have you noticed the arena's weather never changes? It is always bright and sunny. It is not natural."

"How long do you usually stay in one place?"

"A few months. I cannot deny, I am nomadic by nature, but even if I stay in one place for an extended while, there's usually elements that convince me to stay in the form of challenges. These are not challenges, they are a game of memory and reflex. There is no blood, no skill, just who gets what gear first and who's gun shoots the fastest and hits the hardest. That may be well and great for soldiers like Anita, but it's simply tedious to me."

And Wraith could see it. If Bloodhound was armed, they were armed with sniper rifles and pistols, scouting far, cutting off enemies at choke points and feeding intel to their team. They were a hunter, and they very much treated their fellow Legends like prey.

Wraith releases Bloodhound's hand, easing her legs over their thighs. She plays with the bits that hang from the fancy dressings of their headgear, listening.

"I think that's one of the reasons I like you so much, Wraith. You aren't afraid to get up close and personal. You know the worth in claiming one's life with a blade," They rub a hand along her leg, "You are so beautiful out on that field. It's almost a blessing in itself losing to you."

She grins weakly.

"If only...." They sigh, "If only I had the time to leave the games. I would love to take a few months, explore the planet a bit. I came here specifically to sign up for the games, you know, so I haven't had the chance to leave the cities behind. I hate the tightness of the schedules here."

Wraith tilts her head, "When was the last time you went on a hunt?" An idea prickles over her skin.

Bloodhound tuts, "Besides the hunt of the games....So long ago."

She smiles, "Good thing we're already in our gear," Wraith stands, pulling Bloodhound up with her, "C'mon."

"Why? Where are we going?"

She smirks, "I've got a hunting ground that's not in use right now. I've got to make a few calls, but I think I can get us in."

"Where?" Bloodhound sounds surprised, "How did you find out about it?"

"You'll see," Is all Wraith says, leading them out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR: animal death - violence

Wraith made two calls. One to Wattson, receiving the security codes of King's Canyon so that the two could run wild without security getting alerted and on their tails. She had to promise (An over - the - phone pinkie swear,) to hang out with her, on any day of her choosing, any place. But even that steep a price was worth it.

The other was to a local dropship pilot she'd heard the name of pushed around the more seedier markets of the city.

The ship pilot was a shady, tattooed woman, but she was more than eager to take the two to where they needed to go....After Wraith and Bloodhound signed two mounted knives for her to gift to her daughter.

"But our trip here never happened, understood?" Wraith says to her, "You got the knives from running into us at the weapons market," To sweeten the pot, she dumps a large amount of credits into the pilot's account. Wraith could spare the expense. All of her money sat mostly untouched in a dummy account the arena created for her. They loved a mystery, and compensated Wraith for it in the best of ways. She was such a valuable asset to her, that on top of paying her for her time in the arena, they paid her rent, too.

The woman nods, grinning, showing off silver - capped teeth. Wraith punches in the security clearance codes into the ship's control console. Without them, any incoming ship would have their navigation system scrambled, and either take off higher into the atmosphere, or nosedive into the water.

Bloodhound stands by the drop doors, holding onto a hanging handle, "The arena? Why?"

"You said you haven't hunted in a while," Wraith shrugs, "I happen to know a few spots you could scout out."

They shake their head, "I hope I don't offend you, lovely, but all that stands in King's Canyon are large, docile herbivores and petty birds."

"Did you forget? I slummed in the arena until it was finished. The birds and the dinosaurs are just there during the day. The night crew is a little more....testy," And Wraith would know, as she frequently had run ins with them while foraging and fishing herself.

Bloodhound's head picks up. They say a quiet _Huh_ , then nothing else. 

The pilot stops at the East end of the arena, coming in close to the swamps.

"What time should I show back up?" She asks.

"No game tomorrow...make it eleven."

"Done. See you in the mornin', Legends!" And she flies off.

Wraith's eyes cut through the night. An added perk of her abilities. The darkness never truly was dark, not if she didn't want it to be. Just as Wattson promised, since their ship wasn't detected, no guards appeared. She looks up, seeing smears of stars, more noticeable in the wilds than in the cities. She hears Bloodhound suck in a breath.

" _Helvíti, líttu á stjörnurnar ._.."

"Miss the outdoors?"

"More than anything," They fix their coat, "While I enjoy the energy of it, cities are too noisy. People don't appreciate what they have, so concerned with their own lives to notice the world around them," They step over to Wraith's side, "This is wonderful, Wraith," They slide their hands over her hips.

She pulls away with a cheeky grin, fixing her belt, "Not yet, you. Let's get you back on the Allfather's good side first," She jerks her head, "This way," She starts walking, heading West.

"What can we expect?" She can almost hear the smile in Bloodhound's voice, "What creatures are you about to show me?"

"You'll see. No fun in spoiling the surprise. But keep an eye out. They happen to be very quick on their feet....paws."

"Much like you, dear," Bloodhound tuts their ravens forth, having them scout ahead, "What can you tell me about them?"

"I'd say the main predators around here. Nocturnal by nature. They're skittish, but they aren't afraid to fight for a meal."

" _Við erum bara kjöt_ ," Bloodhound says. They roll their shoulders, "How big?"

She flashes a smile, "I think it would be better to leave that as a surprise."

Without the stress of a closing ring, or having to watch for enemy Legends, and with the added eyes of Bloodhound and their ravens, Wraith walks leisurely. It was only ten, and they had the whole night. The creatures she was looking for usually hunted alone, so it may be a while before they spot any -

" _Ah_!" Bloodhound, in joyous surprise, "Hold on," They crouch low in the mud, the swamp ending at dirt, "Tracks. Too little for the normal herbivores, too big for birds."

Wraith crouches low next to them. She blinks, seeing clear prints in the mud. They were three times bigger than her hand.

"Quadrupedal....four toes, one pad....claws non retractable. Carnivores, undoubtedly," Bloodhound points to the edges of the print, "See the cracks here? The mud has dried. These prints are old. Three hours, give or take," They exhale, "I've never seen ones like these before. They must be impressive sized creatures. I can only imagine the size of their teeth."

"Which direction?"

They study the ground for a few seconds, then lift their head, pointing forward, "That way," They stand, holding out a hand for Wraith.

She takes it. She scans their face, realizing their goggles don't have the usual red tint they did when they tracked during games, "Aren't you gonna use some of that tracker tech?"

They laugh dryly, look at her, "I would, but with the red glow it produces, it can only be applied properly during the day," They fix the axe on their belt, "You were here for an extended time. Where did you usually spot these creatures?"

"By the bridges. They have caves in the cliffsides at the water."

Bloodhound draws their axe. It was less a weapon, more an instrument of worship, runes carved into the handle, in sayings Wraith can't decipher. They clench it tight.

"Stay low, keep up," They exhale, voice low, a rumble of excitement, "The hunt begins."

  
-

  
Bloodhound stops at the bridges. Wraith and them had followed a series of tracks and strange loose fur, following evidence until they arrived at their destination. Bloodhound crouches low on the ground, drawing a knife and poking at a dark pile.

"Feces," They say.

"Ew," Wraith says, suddenly aware of the smell.

"Fresh. I'd say within the hour," They separate sections, "Rocks, grass, but no bones or fur. Possibly their stomach acids are strong enough to digest most of what they consume. Hm," They pick out a small round object with their knife.

"What's that?"

Bloodhound picks up the object with their thumb and index finger, holding it up, "A bullet casing."

"They seem like the main predators around, why eat garbage?"

"Animals and creatures cannot help it. They eat what they think is food," Their head tilts curiously, voice low, as if speaking to themself and not Wraith, "Maybe this one ate a creature who happened to swallow it. I cannot tell," They place the casing back down.

Wraith leans over the edge of the cliffside. She crouches, points to a triad of rocks next to the water's edge at the bottom, "There. That's one of the caves."

"How many more?"

"Scattered along the shores, don't know how many."

"You say they hunt alone?"

"Yes, but they aren't afraid to call for backup."

"Ah. We should expect a fight," Bloodhound hums, tuts in the air, motioning an arm out. One of their ravens - which one, Wraith doesn't know, she can never tell them apart - land on their arm. They say a few words, motion to the caves, then hold their arm out again, and the raven flies off. It dives near the water below, just skimming the surface. They land on one of the rocks, head turning.

A low, deep honking sound reverberates through the canyon. Wraith grins, "I think they see your bird, Bloth," She looks over, seeing Bloodhound deathly still next to her.

Their voice is low, a huff of air, "Interesting sound," They place a hand on Wraith's shoulder, pushing her down with them so they're both laying on their bellies in the grass.

They whistle, and in response, the bird puffs it's feathers, bounces on the rock. The braying and the honking turns into chirping.

"Ah. Laughter," Bloodhound says, looking at Wraith, "Do you know what a hyena is?"

She shrugs, "Kinda? It's some mangy dog who runs out in the desert."

"Hyenas actually aren't dogs, they're a class of their own, Hyaenidae," They lean in close, "They are mangy, though. Pack animals. If these here run wild by themselves, that means they're bigger and meaner than any hyena from Earth," Then with a semi - giddy tone, they brush a hand over Wraith's back, "I love you, have I ever told you that?"

With a kiss to the front of their mask, Wraith flicks a bauble than hangs from their headwear, "Every day that I see you," She pushes herself up, "You know how to fish?"

"Of course."

"Well, I know a good spot to get bait. These hyenas," And it's nice for Wraith to finally have a word for these animals, "Keep to the riversides, or the surrounding waters. I've seen them fish, attack waterfowl," Long and warm nights were perfect times for Wraith to spend by the waters, free of the noise and patrols of the construction crew during the day. While they worked in the day, she played for the night.

"Where?"

"Cascades, at the waterfall."

"Well, lead the way, my dear," They whistle shrilly.

Their bird ruffles it's feathers, lifting off and away from the rocks. They fly high into the night sky. casting a silhouette against the moon.

  
-

  
First, Wraith grabs a large scrap of hanging tarp from the bridges' decaying structures. Then, a quick and careful jog to the cascades consist of ducking and dodging between rocks and platforms, watching the shadows. The waterfall roars loudly, and Wraith has to be pressed to Bloodhound's side to be heard.

"Here," She lays the tarp down on the shore, then begins her search for sticks. She finds one, long and sturdy, finding that it doesn't yield when she tries to bend it. She takes out her knife, sharpening one end. She'd done it a number of times while she was surviving in the to - be - built arena. Bloodhound follows her lead, grabbing their own branch and sharpening it.

"I still haven't seen any of these creatures yet, but I can expect them to be voracious in appetite," They say, climbing onto a rock, testing their footing, "Should we stop and make a basket?"

"Tarp is just as fine," She climbs onto a rock a few feet away. She stamps her feet on the surface, finding her boots adequately keeping her upright. She studies the water, picking out dark shapes, "You want the bigger ones with the whiskers."

"Catfish?"

"Sort of. Different, a little fatter, big teeth."

They spend the next twenty minutes jabbing their makeshift spears into the waters. They both come up with a bounty of around twelve catfish, skin slippery, flopping and dying on the tarp.

"I think this is enough," Wraith says, "What do you think?"

Bloodhound looks into the water, spearing through the surface, and coming back up with another fish. Blood drips down the spear, creating dark lines on their gloves, "Now it's enough," They say, the fish flapping weakly on the tip of the weapon. They dump their catch on the wet pile, taking the edges of the tarp and tying the top.

"Do you need help?"

"I've got it," Bloodhound says, lifting the makeshift sack over their shoulder with some strain, "Let's get back."

The walk back is quick. They stand on the bridges above.

"Should we just drop it?" Wraith asks.

"That seems like the easiest way to draw them out. These are there dens. It wouldn't be hard," They sling the makeshift bag over the edge of the bridge above, "The noise will alert them. They'll come to investigate, notice the movement, smell the blood. Have you ever killed one before?"

"No. I wounded one, but it got away before I could finish," She still bears the scars on the inner meat of her left arm. It was close, the hyena almost getting a opening for her neck, but she managed to bury a sharpened rock in its eye. It made off before she could finish the job.

Bloodhound hums, "Maybe you'll see it again tonight, finish the battle."

The bag slips from their fingers. It falls slowly, splitting as soon as it touches the ground. The fish fly off in every directly, some still, some flapping about in the shallow waters.

Wraith holds her breath, watching the openings in the cliffs. There's no movement, but a sound fills the air. Shrill chirping, familiar to her.

"They smell it," Wraith says.

"Aye."

Soon after, the chirping grew louder, more in numbers, dipping into yelps and barks and shuddering yowls. Dark shapes pounce through the water, out of their homes.

A hand grasps her arm, " _Oh_ ," Bloodhound says, slightly gasping, "Lovely, these are _gorgeous_ creatures."

Wraith smiles, "I thought you'd like them," She says, looking at a smaller form that sniffs at their bait.

The hyenas were the size of bicycles, normally dark purple, some almost black, some lighter, with dark spots that dotted through their matted fur, red accenting the purple. Their big ears were rounded, tails bushwhacking. More left their homes, two, four, six, nine. Soon, seven medium - sized hyenas were out of their homes to investigate the sounds and smells on their home turf.

Bloodhound slips a hand over her shoulder, "Can you open a portal?"

"Of course," She raises a hand, energy curling, "Where?"

"Here," They motion to an empty space next to them.

"What about the other end?"

They look over the edge of the bridge, pointing to the pile of fish and the broken tarp, "Over the bait."

"I can do that," Wraith assures them with a nod, "Just tell me when," She takes a step forward, ready to place a portal down. Bloodhound's hand on her shoulder holds her in place.

"Lovely," They say, "This is my fight. You don't have to put yourself in any harms way."

Wraith throws them a grin, shaking her head, "I wouldn't have come if I wasn't prepared to be in a fight," She cocks her head, "Plus, I still want to find that hyena that attacked me. I think I'd recognize it if I saw."

They nod, pull their hand away, "Of course. I don't mean to offend you, dear."

"No offense taken, but don't worry, I'll stay out of your way. Take your pick."

As Bloodhound leans over the bridge side, a sound bites through the curious chirping. Wraith stands straight, eyes cutting through the night. From a back bend of the canyon, a massive shape, double the size of the already large hyenas, as big as a motorcycle. Its fur was a rich violet with black spots. One red eye pierced through the dark fur, the other squinted shut, injured. It let out a loud, piercing bark. The smaller creatures scatter.

Bloodhound tuts, "Based on the way the others act, I'd peg that one as the Alpha."

"Head of the pack?"

"Bully of the pack, more like. Humans like to give the most aggressive and violent of a pack the crown of leadership, but an Alpha does little for them. If you cut the Alphas down, the rest of the pack barely notices. We would be doing the rest of them a favour. They turn their head, "You've seen that one before, right?"

"Yeah. That's the one that almost killed me," Is it just me, or is it bigger than it was the year before?

"Then it's yours," They say.

"Oh, I couldn't."

"I insist."

" _Bloth_ ," She crosses her arms, "It's _your_ hunting trip."

"But _you_ set it up."

The two's eyes meet. Both are stubborn in their own respects, and neither will relent. _Unless...._

Wraith slouches, "I did this for _you_ , though," She says, pouting slightly.

Unfortunately, no matter how steadfast they were, Bloodhound could always be swayed by puppy - dog eyes. It was Wraith's greatest, and most frequently abused, secret weapon.

They sigh. They cup the bottom of her chin, "You're the light of my life. My star," When they pull away, they roll their neck, "How about this. You keep the smaller ones off my back while I take on the big one."

"Sounds just fine to me," Wraith agrees. She can fight much better than she did when she first escaped. She wasn't worried about any of the mangy dogs getting the upper hand on her, "Whenever you're ready."

"I was born ready, dearest," They say, "Just give me the signal."

Wraith climbs onto the bridge railings. She stands straight, looking down. The hyena stomps closer, snapping at the smaller surrounding ones.

"I'll give you a yell," Wraith says, "When I do, jump through," She holds the shadow of a portal in front of Bloodhound. Her fingertips buzz. She looks over her shoulder, "See you on the other side."

She takes a step off the bridge, falling. The Alpha was closer, sniffing at the edge of the fish pile. She opens the portal a few feet above.

"Now!"

She falls through freezing cold, somersaulting onto the wooden boards. She quickly turns on her heel, bouncing back through the portal. She views the timelines around her, seeing nothing but gnashing jaws and knives. She exits, somersaulting again through the air, and lands flat on her feet in the water.

Bloodhound was already standing off with the Alpha. There was a large gash in the space where the hyena's ear met it's head. Black blood dripped down over it's bad eye. Bloodhound was crouched low, circling, axe held tight in their grip.

Some of the smaller hyenas hightailed it out, frightened by the scene, but some stayed, teeth bared. There's four altogether still left. Wraith draws her kunai.

One dives for her. Her foot catches a large rock, and knocks her off balance. She splashes in the low water. She holds her forearm out, pushing against the creature's throat. It's heavy, and snaps it's jaws, drool dripping from it's oversized fangs. Wraith drives the knife in the soft underbelly of it's chin. It yelps, then goes limp, hot and black blood spraying out and over her. She pushes the dead weight off, standing, wiping blood away from her mouth, spitting. She thanks the padded palms of her gloves, for without them, her knife surely would have slipped out of her grip along with the blood.

_That's one._

**Trouble. To your left.**

Two hyenas circled behind Bloodhound, their head swiveling from the larger Alpha, to the smaller two, trapped within the triage.

Wraith runs forward. She leaps out of the water, landing on the back of one hyena, driving her knife into the back of it's skull. It's a quick, painless death, and before the creature hits the ground, she phases through realities. She pops up again on the other side of the second circling hyena. She drives her knife into it's coarse side, stabbing again and again, feeling the muscle yield to her blade, inner organs pop and tear. The hyena jerks away, limping, but doesn't make it far, and collapses into the water with dying brays.

_Three on the board._

She wipes the blood of her blade on the unbloodied part of the hyena's hide.

**Rightrightrightright -**

Too late. Wraith is knocked back into the water by the last creature. It clamps down on her equipment belt, just missing her body, instead tearing into metal and plastic. Wraith kicks at the hyena, hitting it square in the ribs. Wraith swears she hears a crack, hears something give. The hyena leaps back, crouched low. Black liquid seeps from it's nostrils, eyes wide and frenzied. She stands low, legs apart, knife held tight in her hand.

She glances at Bloodhound. They dance around the creature, getting blows and gashes at it's limbs and sides, but never quite getting close enough for a killing blow.

Wraith focuses back on her hyena. _Get the rest of the pack off Bloth's back, then focus on the Alpha_. Instead of waiting for the hyena to make the first move, Wraith dashes forward. As the hyena snaps low, she jumps high. She uses her momentum to do a flip in the air, land on the creature's back. She grabs it's muzzle, pulling it's head back. The hyena flails, rolls backwards, landing on Wraith.

Her teeth clenched in pain, a great weight on top of her, she digs her kunai into the side of the hyena's neck, dragging it forward, muscle and flesh ripping with the sharp blade. It yelps and pants, kicks forward and away from Wraith. It stands, wobbles, then falls into the water.

 _Four_.

Bloodhound lets out a loud yell, and Wraith watches them jump from a high rock, arms raised to land a blow onto the head of the hyena. Instead of ducking it's head, like a normal animal would to avoid an oncoming blow, this one snaps out. It catches Bloodhound by their ankle, ruining their trajectory. They fall, roll in the shallow water, axe sliding away.

" _Hey_!" Wraith screams out, chest tight.

It catches the Alpha's attention. It's mighty body turns towards her, and rushes forward. Wraith phases out again, appearing next to Bloodhound. There's no red blood in the water, no rip in their armor. It looked like hyena hadn't bitten Bloodhound, but it's nose instead bumped their leg, sending them off awkwardly. She helps them to their feet.

"You aren't done yet," She says. She picks up their axe, shoving it into their palm, "Not until it's - "

Bloodhound curls a hand into Wraith's scarf. They pull her forward, the mouthpiece of their mask smashing into her in a kiss. They hold her, then push her back. She lands in the water, right on her rear end.

They say something in their home language, flipping the axe in their hand.

A mighty bark reverbs through the canyon. Both heads turn to the Alpha. It barely gives them time to gather their bearings before it charges again. Both jump opposite one another, clearing the path. The Alpha twists in the water, sliding, then rushes for Bloodhound.

As soon as they decide it's close enough, Bloodhound pivots on their heel, dodging away to the left. They quickly dig their axe into the side of it's neck. It's a heavy, deep blow. The hyena lets out a loud, piercing bray. They thrash away, the instrument still stuck it's body, black blood dripping down and dying the water around, like the embodiment of a plague, poisoning the water. Though weak, the creature still stands.

Bloodhound lets out a mighty yell that Wraith can feel in her chest. They rip a knife from a holster on their belt, barrelling forward. The hyena jumps high, Bloodhound dips low, somersaulting on the other side of the creature. They twist around, dig the knife into the creature's back thigh. It yelps, loud and pained. It slips in the water, attention caught away. Bloodhound takes this opportunity, yanking the knife out of it's back leg, jumping onto it. They drive the knife, again and again, into the side of the Alpha's neck.

Black blood sprays in a fountain, dousing Bloodhound. A series of pained barks shriek through the air, each one becoming more and more quiet, more ghostly, with each draw of Bloodhound's knife. It falls forward, limp, and Bloodhound doesn't stop.

They yell out, sound clear over the soft flow of the shallow water, still stabbing into the neck of the now limp, now dead, creature. They are so loud, if they were speaking English, Wraith couldn't decipher it.

Bloodhound's stabs grow weaker, slower. Their body shakes. The knife slips out of their palm, stuck in the beast, and they punch the hyena with their fist, still yelling, voice now hoarse. They slow, stop, breathing heavy, whole body trembling. They slip off of the hyena, rolling onto their back, into the water.

Immediately, Wraith is on them, kneeling over, eyes wide.

"Bloth?" She can't help but let worry slip. They were covered in black blood, entirely stained. _How do you get blood out of leather?_

They sit up, grasp her shoulders, " _Þú varst sendur af guðunum til mín. Til að vernda mig, leiðbeina mér, vaka yfir mér, eins og forfeður mínir gera **,**_ " They shake her, " _Ég elska þig, ég elska þig. Ég sver við allt sem ég á, ég mun gera þig að konu minni, ég mun hlæja í andliti allra sem standa í vegi mínum, ég elska þig, ég elska þig, ég elska þig_ ," They press their forehead to hers, panting heavily. They pull the bun from her hair, threading blood through the strands.

Wraith doesn't understand half of what they're saying, but their words pull at her soul, harping the strings of her heart. The muscles of her arms and legs yell at her as she falls forward, laying down next to her partner. The waters are not deep enough, current not strong enough, to carry the two away, but she wishes the shallow pools would, just to give their weary bodies rest.

She stares up at the night sky. The moon was high, casting down silver light, brushings of stars along the sky. A hand slips into hers, squeezing.

" _Þakka þér fyrir."_

"Are you OK?"

" _Ja_. I'm fine," Bloodhound shifts, groans, "I don't think anything is broken. What about you?"

"I feel a little sore....Think I might need a new belt," She grabs at the broken plastic of her utility belt.

"When did that pilot say she was going to pick us up?"

"Not until late morning," She lifts from the water. She feels disgusting, covered in blood, soaking wet. The adrenaline ebbed away, chilling her.

"Perfect," Bloodhound says, sitting up. They stand, grunting, "Gives me time to prepare the _blóta_."

"What's that?"

"A sacrifice. You cannot have a good hunt without sharing that honor with the Gods."

"Do you need anything for it?"

"This is not a traditional _blóta_ , with priests and painted statues. Lone hunters make do," They roll their shoulders, walking towards the fallen Alpha. They kneel next to their trophy, placing both hands on the matted fur. They mutter words Wraith cannot hear, then stand, pulling out their knife, and their axe, washing the blades in the water, sheathing them back into their holsters.

Wraith stands, stretching out her arms and legs, then walks over to them, "Can I help?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't," They look at her, tilt their head, "Lovely, when I pushed you in the water, were you angry with me?"

"No. Why?"

They shrug, "I should apologize. I thought it would be cool, to kiss passionately in the middle of a battle, then continue the bloodshed. I've always wanted to do that. Was it cool?"

Wraith snorts, "I was wondering what it was for," She looks at Bloodhound, "But it was definitely a smooth move I didn't see coming."

Bloodhound looks back down at the creature, and Wraith can feel a smile from behind their mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OUGH.......AHHHH.......ths chapter was so much fun to write i love action scenes
> 
> >accidentally makes the alpha blind in one eye, creating a both literal and metaphorical battle between bloodhound and the allfather.....i think i might be a genius?
> 
> More to come - thanks for reading :)!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> this was all written before bloodhound's cinematic was revealed
> 
> so yknow how, if any readers have younger siblings, you feel like your parents laxed in parenting your younger siblings than they have you? like you got a lot more flak for the things youve done, but when your siblings do it, they get away with less than a slap on the wrist?
> 
> i kinda feel like bloodhound has that relationship with technology. they like modern times, they like technology and things making peoples lives easier, but theyre a little bitter because they went through so much hardship in their life surviving. they see people living in modern times, with running water and electricity, as sorta spoiled
> 
> anyway - thanks for reading! next chapter should be soon.....hopefully


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